


The Right Way

by summerwick



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Jealous Lydia, Stydia, Stydia fighting, Stydia lost in Mexico
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwick/pseuds/summerwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic request posted on Stydia-fanfiction: Stydia lost in a Mexico desert and then fighting a little bit about it, but making up after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Way

“I don’t think this is the right way,” huffed an exasperated Stiles pinching the neckline of his shirt and shaking it to cool off his chest. Sweat was pooling under his arms, evidenced by the wetness seeping along the sides of the shirt and transforming parts of his shirt into a slightly darker shade. He ran a callous hand along his forehead to wipe away the fresh perspiration dripping downwards, ignoring the twisting of disgust Lydia’s face made.

            “I’m sure this is it,” Lydia told him sharply, daring him to correct her again. If Lydia was anything, she was responsible; she was smart and by no means prone to getting lost. Hell, even disoriented and naked she was able to find her way out of the woods and onto the street the police happened to be solving a murder on. She wasn’t about to doubt her almost always trustworthy instincts, especially when she was so sure this was the path Scott told her to take.

            “Lydia, we’re in the middle of nowhere,” he didn’t try to hide his annoyance, the burning temperature messing with his mind and making him near-delirious. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d get the opportunity to experience what a mirage is like firsthand. Then again, children’s cartoons most likely exaggerated what a heat-induced hallucination was actually like.

            “You just need to calm down, we’re not far now.” She wasn’t exactly sure how far ‘not far’ might really be, but there wasn’t a chance she was about to tell him that. Her eyes canvased the area, mosaics of grasses and shrubs coating their surroundings. Lydia fanned herself as the heat really started to hit her, bursts of sweat popping to the surface of her skin around where the collar of her jacket brushed against her neck. They both needed a distraction. “Let’s, I don’t know, play a game,” she suggested with a shrug, moving to pull of her jacket.

Stiles rolled his eyes when she told him to calm down, finding himself increasingly bothered by her nonchalant reaction to their situation, which was becoming more dire as the seconds wore on.  Thankfully, night time was approaching quickly which would cool them down significantly. Unfortunately, that would also make it harder to see and leave them lost even longer. He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts, finding himself momentarily distracted by her actions as she pulled her jean-jacket off, revealing the creamy skin of her arms and exposing the sharpened edges of her collar bones.

            Not noticing the fact that Stiles’ eyes were trailing downward, she wrapped her coat around her arms to hold it more easily. Her sudden forward shift in movement gave Stiles a small glimpse of the tiniest bit of cleavage. He immediately averted his eyes in shame.

            “Uhh,” he shook his head to clear his foggy head.  _So hot_. “A game you say?”

            “I spy with my little eye…”

            Stiles was quick to interrupt, “Your eyes are huge.” At Lydia’s extremely dirty look he expounded so fast his words almost came out jumbled, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, your eyes are beautiful.”

            A blush crept up Lydia’s neck and burned her cheeks, so she instead turned her head away before trying again, “I spy with my  _little_ eye,” she annunciated, playing by the rules of the game. “Something yellow.”

            “The sand.”

            Her head whipped around to look at him, straggles of loose curls framing her hair. “Hey, how did you know?”

            “Because the only damn thing around here is sand, Lydia!” Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets. “Besides, the sand isn’t even yellow. It’s more of an ecru or a beige.”

            “What?” Lydia shook her head in disbelief. “You’re so weird when it comes to colors.” She lowered her voice to mock him, “ _Oh, I’m Stiles! Lydia’s hair is strawberry blonde and the sand is ecru_!”

            “Wow that sounds  _exactly_  like me!” Stiles replied with a laugh. “Your hair is strawberry blonde, though.”

            “And the sand is ecru,” Lydia pointed out with a lift of her shoulders. “But you’re still weird.”

            “How is that weird? Would you rather I not notice you and your somehow perfectly perfect hair?”

            Lydia decided to ignore his compliment, as reacting would only lead to more awkwardness that she couldn’t take, especially when he was hooking up with  _Malia_. He didn’t even think she knew about it, but she wasn’t blind, and she inwardly reprimanded him for not knowing her intelligence better than that like he used to. He used to do a lot of things.

            “It’s weird because you’re supposed to be a guy but when you know what ecru is it makes me think girl,” she eyed him carefully. “But if you’re gonna go for someone like Malia then that convinces me that you really are just a dumb boy.”

            Stiles stopped walking, but waited for Lydia to trail a few more steps ahead and do the same, coming to a halt. She immediately knew she messed up, but slowly turned to face him and whatever anger she deserved. It was a snarky comment, but her thoughts had gotten away from her and she projected her anger with Malia onto him. Not that Malia  _necessarily_  deserved it either, but she did make that comment about being willing to leave her and Kira behind.

            “What do you mean  _someone like Malia_?” With the way his question ended, it was clear he was preparing himself for some kind of argument. Lydia dared look in his eyes and saw the tension there. She almost had to look away, because it felt almost like a betrayal. Of course it would be Malia. She didn’t ignore him for eight years, she didn’t fail to appreciate him the way Lydia did.

            “You know what I mean,” she tried weakly, forming an attempt of a smile that really only lifted one side of her lips.

            “No I don’t,” he gritted his teeth together. “Explain it to me.”

            “Well for starters, you’re secret relationship isn’t such a secret after all. You two suck at keeping things quiet.” Straight forward was best at this point.

            “What the hell are you talking about?” Stiles scoffed. “We’re not together. I mean, yeah… We’re having a little…” he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck uncomfortably, “Fun, I guess.”

            Lydia lifted her eyebrows at him, tilting her head judgmentally.

            “We didn’t exactly define what it is we are… yet.”

            Lydia found that she didn’t like the way he suggested the possibility of it being an official thing. At first, she’d been hopeful. If they were just having fun, she could handle that. He deserved to have some fun, even if it made her feel kind of bad. But if he was going to be with this girl, this  _werecoyote_  who was related to Peter, someone who’s nothing but trouble, he was inevitably going to get hurt. She was just trying to protect him, and was ready to say as much. Her thoughts might be a little biased considering her somewhat changing feelings for him, but she was sure about this.

            All of that was just too much to get out in one breath, so she settled for, “Are you going to?” It came out quieter than intended.

            “I don’t know.” He really sounded like he didn’t.

            Lydia’s shoulders dropped. “I don’t think she’s good for you.”

            “Why? Because she’s not you?”

            “What?” Did he know? Did he  _know_  how she felt? Was he about to tell her that he crush on him was pathetic and obvious and completely hopeless? Lydia felt her heart begin to pound against her ribcage, and all rationalization was out the door. It didn’t matter that she knew he’d never call her pathetic, because god, what if he does?

            “You’re upset because it’s not you I’m pining over anymore,” he lifted a finger in the air, tapping it against something unseen as he tried to find the proper way to word what he wanted to say, his eyes narrowing. “Which I think is really messed up by the way.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “You don’t want me, you don’t have feelings for me, but you don’t want me to like anyone but you.” Stiles let his hands fall to his sides, a shaky breath leaving his lips. “Even though it makes me miserable, constantly watching you walk away from me… You want me to do keep feeling that way.”

            Lydia’s eyes darted back and forth between each of his, trying to figure out how the hell he came to  _that_ conclusion. It was completely insane and so far from the truth, she couldn’t even believe he was the one saying it.  “Stiles, what are you talking about?”

            “We don’t have to do this now, it’s too hot and it’s getting dark.”

            Sure, the timing of this debate was completely and utterly horrible, yet she still didn’t want to drop it. This had to happen, and it had to happen now. Before she had to watch him be with Malia, before he thought so lowly of her to believe she’d want him to be sad.

            “No, we’re doing this right now.” She stomped her foot against the bushel beneath her feet. “Why do you think I want you to be miserable? Why would I ever want that?”

            “Okay, maybe you don’t want me to feel that way exactly, but you still want me to want you.”

            “Well duh!” Her eyes filled with tears. “Having you love me has been the only thing that has felt real in years.”

            Stiles’ eyes lifted abruptly, meeting hers. He had no words.

            “Did you?” Lydia asked in a hushed tone, suddenly self-conscious. She shouldn’t have made that assumption. Embarrassed, Lydia wrapped her arms around herself defensively. Funnily enough, it made her look cold. “Did you _love_  me?”

            “I’ve always loved you,” Stiles relented, honesty seeping through his defense. “I can’t remember a time where I didn’t love you and there probably never will be a time that I don’t.” His eyebrows were drooped sadly, his body slouched. “I’m sure I’ll stop being  _in_  love with you one day, but I’ll still love you after that.”

            “You’re in love with me right now?” How she was able to get that question out she’ll never know, because her breath was stolen.

            He stole it again seconds later when he kissed her.

            After the initial shock set in, Lydia was able to finally respond. The first thing she noticed was how hot his breath was, which wasn’t surprising considering his body temperature in this dry boiling air. His tongue was wet and warm, his lips smooth against hers. Most men had small lips, and almost always she was caught nearly eating them when kissing, but not now. Not here with Stiles, where his perfectly plump lips pressed firmly against hers until she gasped, only then deciding to run a hand along the nape of her neck where her hair began. He twirled a curl around his fingers at the root, tugging gently as his tongue moved against hers.

            Stiles had taken a big risk by kissing her, but it was okay with him. It was _really_  okay with him when she didn’t pull away, didn’t slap him or scream at him or storm off and leave him in the Chihuahuan Desert on his lonesome. It was his absolute best idea yet when she kissed him back, cupping his jaw in both of her hands and opening her lips to welcome his.

            “Lydia? Stiles!?” Scott. He’d found them.

            Lydia pulled away first, their lips separating with a suctioning “pop”.

            “There you guys are, we were getting worried.”

            “We?” She asked, answering her own question when Malia and Kira came up behind him.

            “I was only worried about Stiles,” Malia corrected, moving toward the boy with a happy smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

            When Lydia looked toward him she saw his fingers trailing away from his lips, where he still felt the tingling after effects of good kissing.

            “Did you get lost?” Kira asked, looking both of them over, pleased when she saw neither of them appeared to be injured.

            “I’m not playing follow the leader with Lydia ever again,” Stiles joked, lightening the tension. Only Lydia and he could feel the thick awkwardness among them, but it was enough to make him feel anxious and rushed to get out of it.

            “I told you to follow the path,” Scott told Lydia, his brows furrowed with worry.

            “We’re okay.”

            “Yeah!” Stiles readily agreed. “Body heat helps in the cold.”

            Everyone turned their questioning eyes to Stiles, who took another moment before he realized his mistake. They all saw it when he did, as his eyes widened and his fist flew to his mouth.

            “Hahah…” Lydia tried. “Good one.” Everyone else remained silent. “Well, we should really get back before it gets too dark.”

            “Yes, yes.” Stiles nodded, pretending to flick a piece of lint casually off his shirt. “Lots of work to be done. Let’s go.” He left no room for further comment, pushing past them and walking ahead.

            “Do you wanna tell him he’s going the wrong way?” Scott asked Lydia with a knowing smirk, arms crossed as he tilted his head at her curiously.

            “It’s…It’s the heat. It’s making him delirious.”

            “Yeah…  _the body heat._ ”

Lydia lowered her head, a small smile appearing on her lips even as her cheeks became the unmistakable shade of two ripe apples.


End file.
